


It Hits The Fan

by shortstackedcheesecake96



Series: Alternate Episodes by Hugh Honey and Vic Vinegar [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate episode, Coming Out, High School, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortstackedcheesecake96/pseuds/shortstackedcheesecake96
Summary: After Stan's Uncle Jimbo comes out the boys discover that not everyone gets bleeped when saying the f-word, leaving Kyle and Eric with a lot to ponder about themselves.Or, Kyle and Eric find their pride.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Bebe Stevens, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Ned Gerblansky/Jimbo Kern, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger
Series: Alternate Episodes by Hugh Honey and Vic Vinegar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901197
Comments: 23
Kudos: 105





	It Hits The Fan

**Author's Note:**

> Hugh Honey here, with my first *official* contribution to this series. This was a lot of fun, and I hope to contribute more! I have 24 seasons worth of material, after all, so it shouldn't be too hard. I hope you enjoy, and I'd love to know your thoughts! Thank you for reading!

After having returned from LA where he killed a dragon, and watched the Knights of Standards and Practices slaughter B List celebrities for saying 'shit' too much for a dumb network gimmick, Kyle is enjoying the relative lull he and his friends are experiencing at the moment. It's nice to just stand at the bus stop waiting for Miss Crabtree to drive him to a quiet day at school. Of course, Stan, Cartman, and Kenny are looking forward to their first night of scouts and have been talking about it quite a lot recently, and while it does sting to not be included in the conversation Kyle is trying to look on the bright side. He can just be a witness to whatever calamity is soon to follow, and perhaps being on the sidelines will make it easier for him not to get sucked in. He can read, and hang out with Ike while the guys are at their scout meetings. But right now he's just going to enjoy the cold air pinching his cheeks, and the sound of birds chirping in the morning.

Stan, however, does not seem to be enjoying their current peacetime. Kyle notices him approach out of the corner of his eye, with hands tucked into his pockets and his gaze low and distant. A definite indicator that something is on his mind.

Kyle glances warily between Cartman and Kenny as Stan joins them at the bus stop, but he does not look up or say a word.

"Hey, Stan..."

"Hey..." he murmurs.

Kyle frowns, looks between Cartman and Kenny once again.

"You alright, dude?"

Stan blinks and looks up.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine." He's looking at the ground again once he's done.

Cartman sighs.

"I don't know, man, you look like shit."

The word comes out bleeped, but it's enough for Stan to look up frowning.

"What?"

"Cartman!"

Cartman scoffs and raises his hands in defence.

"I was just testing something out!"

Kyle rolls his eyes.

"Shit' is gone for good, get used to it. It's better this way." He shakes his head, returning to the matter at hand. "Seriously, Stan, what's up?"

Stan huffs, shaking his head and trying to avoid looking at his friends. They're getting somewhere though. The words are dying to leap out of his mouth, Kyle can tell.

"Nothing it's just... my Uncle Jimbo is gay."

Stan hunches his shoulders in the silence.

"Wow," Kenny remarks.

"Dude, really?"

"Why the hell do you even care, Stan?" Cartman asks. "Didn't Big Gay Al take you on a boat ride and show you all the wonders of gaiety?"

Kyle sighs, eyes closed.

"You're not using that word in the right context."

"Jesus, Kyle, what the fuck are you, the word police? I'm just repeating what Stan said that one time!"

"I'm not sad that he's gay, I don't have a problem with that! I just..." Stan's mouth scrunches up and he rubs his arm. "I-I-I don't know I guess I can't get my head around it. It's a little confusing. How can he only be gay now?"

Kenny shrugs.

"He's always been gay."

"Kenny's right, dude, he's probably been gay for a long time he's only just now telling people."

Kyle doesn't know a whole lot about sexuality, or people's orientations, or coming out of the closet, but he's pretty sure that's a thing. Sometimes it takes a while for people to get the words out, especially if they're afraid of what could happen if they do.

"But why now?" Cartman asks.

Stan sighs.

"I don't know, I heard my mom and dad talking and my dad said it all started when Jimbo said _*bleep*_ at the bar."

Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny share confused, furrow-browed glances.

"What?" Cartman asks.

"Apparently only gay people can say _*bleep*_ "

"Again, what?"

"That's why Mr Garrison can say it and he doesn't get bleeped," Stan adds, regardless of the obvious confusion.

"I'm not following," Kyle says.

Stan huffs, taking his hands out of his pockets to throw his arms down at his side.

"How are you guys not getting it? Only gay people can say _*bleep!*_ "

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Kenny asks.

"Dude, you're getting bleeped we don't know what you're saying!"

Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

"God damn it, okay, uh..." he looks up. "What do my Uncle Jimbo, Big Gay Al, and Mr Garrison all have in common?"

Cartman taps his chin, before he lifts his index finger in the air. His eyes are bright.

"They're gay as shit!"

Kyle sighs heavily and closes his eyes again.

"Jesus, Cartman..." he mutters.

"Right, and because they're gay they can say _*bleep*_ \- which is a derogatory term against gay people -" Stan says with raised eyebrows. "Without getting bleeped."

A couple seconds go by, before Kenny gets it.

"Oh, it's _*bleep!*_ "

Stan claps his hands.

"Yes!"

Kyle's eyes flit back and forth between Stan and Kenny.

"What did you say, Kenny?"

"Yeah, if we can't understand Stan then how the hell are we supposed to understand you, shithead?"

Kyle clenches his fists, and cries through gritted teeth with frustration.

"Cartman, will you give it a fucking rest he said fag!"

Kyle clamps a hand over his mouth as soon as the uncensored word leaves his lips. His heart is pounding in his ears, his head is spinning, and he's glad he has a hand covering his mouth because if his stomach twists itself in anymore knots he's gonna throw up his breakfast all over the snow. Stan and Kenny look just as mortified for Kyle, and Stan has paled considerably. Cartman, however, is bright red, mouth scrunched up and he's practically effervescent with concealed laughter. He finally releases it in a blood-curdling cackle that pisses Kyle off and terrifies him all at once.

"Ha! Kyle didn't get bleeped!" Cartman is clutching his belly, and he swipes his watery eyes with his free hand. "I should've known you were a fucking fag!"

Cartman clamps a hand over his mouth too, as if he can catch the damning word floating in the air and swallow it, shove it deep down inside him so he can forget he ever said it, that anyone ever heard it. But they all heard it. They stare at each other with wild, glimmering eyes, mirroring each other perfectly.

Stan steps forward, and in a low voice he says, "Kyle, dude, I had no idea you were..."

Kyle shakes his head and removes his hand from his mouth.

"I'm not!" he cries. "I'm not gay! At least..." his breaths are coming fast, and his eyes roam the snow. "At least I don't think I am..."

Cartman snorts.

"That uncensored 'f' bomb you dropped begs to differ."

Kyle whips his head back up to look at him. Cartman purses his lips immediately, like he knows it was mistake. He stumbles backwards as Kyle approaches him.

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you say it, asshole! It didn't hide anything for you either!"

Cartman's eyes dart around for an escape, and his red face still hasn't simmered.

"That's a hate word, Kyle!"

"If you've got nothing to worry about then it'll just bleep you!" Kyle folds his arms and smirks. "Maybe it was just a fluke?"

Cartman gulps, a little crease in his brow and he looks around as if to make sure it's safe. He looks into Kyle's eyes and lowers his head.

"You really think last time was a fluke?" he whispers.

Kyle has no idea. When he suggested it, it was more to goad Cartman into saying it again, but now he wants to believe it was. He loses the smirk and nods earnestly.

"It must be, right?"

Stan sighs, watching all of this.

"Okay, Cartman, you say it on the count of three, ready? One, two, three."

Cartman takes a breath.

"Fag..." his face drops and he growls, kicking the snow. It sprays everywhere. "Aw, shit!" It's the only word that gets bleeped.

"Okay, Kyle," Stan says, looking into his eyes encouragingly. "One, two, three..."

Kyle is less and less certain it was a fluke. He wrings his hands during the countdown.

"Fag," he murmurs.

"So what..." Cartman looks between the boys, bewildered. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Just then the bus pulls up, and crushes any hopes Kyle had of a peaceful day beneath its wheels.

"I think you know what it means, Cartman," Kenny replies, giving his shoulder a pat before he gets on the bus.

Cartman scoffs, but his lip is wobbling as he glares at Stan and Kyle.

"Whatever, you guys are totally immature!"

He shoves both of them out of the way as he gets on the bus. But his glare is magnetic, and Kyle can't help but follow it as he watches Cartman take his seat.

Stan tries to reassure him, tries to talk about other things, but his ears are ringing as he joins him on the bus.

* * *

When Kyle had his kidney transplant, he received a get-well present from his teacher-turned-romance-novelist Mr Garrison, a signed copy of his debut novel _'The Valley of The Penises.'_

Kyle didn't read the book until he left hospital. Until he arrived home he had no intention of reading it at all, in fact. In hospital he had Cartman there to irritate and entertain him, and nothing was more irritable than a bored, grumpy Cartman, or demanded more of his attention. He was more than willing to throw the book away with the wilting flowers and deflating balloons at his bedside, but when he left the hospital he still had some recovery to do. He was alone in his room a lot of the time, and being an avid reader it was only natural he would pick up the book one day while feeling particularly bored.

The book wasn't great. It wasn't particularly well-written, the story was forgettable and so were the characters, but something about it got Kyle hooked, kept him coming back again and again. Maybe it was the fact he knew he shouldn't be reading it? The subject matter was not all appropriate for a nine year old, after all. Maybe it was because it described interactions between adults that he didn't fully understand, and he wanted to learn more about. By the third time, fourth time, fifth time reading he would get it. Some scenes were seared into his brain but he still didn't understand them, or the way his stomach would clench, his heart would flutter, his face would burn.

The book described various dicks in great, throbbing detail. It practically forced the images into Kyle's brain and these were the images that would elicit the more visceral response from him. Details of girls' anatomy, of boobs and vaginas was very scant. He felt despairingly indifferent to the sparse descriptions of nipples and labia - whatever that was. Kyle just thought that he was so affected by these phallic descriptions because Mr Garrison clearly had a knack for writing them. He shouldn't even be reading about them, and there he was reading about every detail of their length, and their girth, and how effectively they were utilised. It's always exciting to do something forbidden, and even more so when you're being indulged in the way Kyle was.

Following Kyle's 'uncensored f bomb' he thinks about his relationship to _The Valley of the Penises_ very differently. Maybe it wasn't just a naughty book he felt rebellious reading, a curious book he was fascinated by, maybe it had unlocked something in him. He didn't read _The Valley of the Penises_ for a while. He shut it away in his drawer, scared of what it might reveal. But one restless night he picks it back up, and he returns to it again and again throughout grade school, and into his teenage years.

Kyle hates that _The Valley of The Penises_ by Herbert Garrison is the most formative book of his life.

* * *

It's very easy for Eric to shove the whole 'fag' thing to the back of his mind. A million insane things happened between then and now for it to never get brought back up in conversation again, and weirdly, knowing that it's there, tucked away in some dusty part of his brain makes Eric more comfortable with accessing that part of himself that's well, not totally straight... but not gay either. It's a convenient explanation he keeps to himself, and because his friends are too uncomfortable bringing it up he can get away with behaving in this not-straight-but-not-gay way without comment or scrutiny from those around him. However, it's the scrutiny of his classmates of late, that has him sat up in bed, pondering.

He had no idea Craig and Tweek were gay. He assumed that he would be able to recognise this in other people. Then again, the gay people in his life are already out, and he only knows that Kyle may very well be gay because he was there when it was revealed in front of their friends. That still didn't stop Kyle from trying to pursue a relationship with a girl. Eric is convinced that there were two motivations for Kyle trying to date Nichole. One, because he knew she liked him, and two, because he wanted to destroy Eric's happiness over his matchmaking of Token and Nichole. Either way, he wasn't fooling anyone. Still, Tweek and Craig are a curveball. How did Eric not see it, and how did the Asian girls figure this out? It's all very weird.

Just then, Cupid Me materialises in front of Eric, in a pink haze of bubbling love-hearts.

"Oh come on! What's wrong with two guys liking each other?"

"I just don't understand it, Cupid Me. Wanting to, like, kiss a dude?"

This is true, Eric has never imagined what it would be like to kiss a boy. Yes, he made out with his Justin Timberlake cut-out, but he was in character! He was Britney Spears, and obviously _she_ wants to make out with Justin Timberlake.

"But if love is love, then it takes form in all shapes and sizes, teehee!"

Eric sighs.

"I guess just because I don't understand it doesn't mean I shouldn't support it..." he smiles. "Alright, maybe you can help them along."

Cupid Me grins, and fairy dust (or cherub dust) falls from his wings as they flutter in excitement.

"Really? Can I?"

Eric grins, throwing back the covers and making his way over to his window.

"Yes, Cupid Me. But be quick, don't let anyone see you."

"Oh, thank you! I won't!"

He opens the window and watches Cupid Me flutter out of the window, giggling all the while. He rests his elbow on the window sill, cheek smushed in his palm and he watches Cupid Me do an excited loop-de-loop in the light of the full moon, leaving a trail of hearts in his wake. Eric really does love their partnership, he feels they do a lot of good when they're together.

It's not long before Cupid Me returns, when Eric is sat on the toilet and playing on his phone.

"Did you do it, Cupid Me?"

"I hit him with my love arrow, then I peed in his mouth just for fun."

Eric laughs, he's stoked that he's helping Tweek and Craig's blossoming love affair, but even more stoked that Craig's mouth got peed in.

"That's awesome!" he chuckles some more. The image will never get old. "That's so sweet!"

Cupid Me lowers his chin, and bats his eyelashes.

"I thought you might like that..."

Eric nods, body still thrumming with laughter.

"Yeah, dude, you're hilarious!"

"And do you think I'm cute too?" Cupid Me asks, smiling and cuddling up to Eric like he wants to nuzzle his jaw. "Because I think you're kinda cute..."

He's been doing that a lot lately, and Eric doesn't know how clearer he can make it that he's not interested and they are just friends. Eric's smile vanishes, and he bats Cupid Me away from him.

"Stop that, Cupid Me. I told you I'm not homosexual, okay?" he says sternly. "It's not funny."

Cupid Me sighs, but doesn't seem too beat up about another rejection. Eric hopes this means he's getting the message.

"Oh well, at least Tweek and Craig are in love now..." he says, flying away.

"Yep, school tomorrow should be really interesting," Eric replies, smiling to himself.

Once he's done on the toilet, he returns to bed and snuggles into his pillow. He falls asleep with a warm, fuzzy feeling, his mind finally at rest about Tweek, and Craig, and homosexuality.

_Eric is in his kitchen, but his mom isn't there making dinner. Instead, he's opening the oven. The heat hits his face, and he pulls out a heavy, hot dish of... nothing. The dish is completely empty. But it smells like a pot roast. He looks at his hands and realises he's wearing oven mitts, and on further inspection an apron, and a floral dress. His feet also feel weird. The balls of his feet are aching, and his toes feel like they are being squeezed together. His legs also feel tauter, his back straighter. He looks down and realises he's wearing heels! A patent kitten pair. What the fuck?_

_He has little time to process all this, when the front door slams shut._

_"Honey, I'm home!" A familiar voice calls out to him. Too familiar. Kyle!_

_Eric frowns and sets the pot roast down on the kitchen counter, heading into the living room to investigate. He opens his mouth to retort, but freezes when he sees Kyle stood in a grey suit. He's wearing a matching bowler hat on top of his regular green one, and he's smiling at Eric as he sets his shiny briefcase on the floor, and places his hat on the rack._

_He ignores the genuine, pleased smile and snaps, "what the fuck are you doing here?"_

_Kyle frowns, brow creasing like Eric is the crazy one._

_"Huh? What do you mean what am I doing here? We're playing house, aren't we?"_

_Eric blinks._

_"Oh... " he frowns, before staring down at his attire. He doesn't know how, but things are starting to make sense. He plays with the hem of his full skirt. "oh yeah, I guess we are..."_

_"Something smells delicious..." Kyle is smiling again, and he steps forward._

_Eric snickers with a small, shy smile._

_"It's a pot roast," he replies. He rubs his arm and looks at the carpet, before looking up at Kyle. His chin is lowered. "Are you hungry?"_

_Kyle grins now, eyes bright and pleased that Eric is playing along. He steps closer, in an encouraging manner._

_"I'm starving."_

_With those words, hunger starts gnawing at Eric's stomach._

_"Me too. Will you, uh, lay the table?"_

_Kyle beams at him._

_"Of course I will."_

_He brushes past Eric, and his eyes widen and his mouth drops open in genuine delight at Kyle being so agreeable. Usually, Eric relishes the opposite, but it's nice to have a change of pace every once in a while._

_Even for a game of house, Kyle is turning out to be the ideal husband. He not only lays the table with gleaming cutlery and china, but everything is uniform and aligned perfectly, the napkins folded neatly. He also carves the pot roast that is still invisible, but is making Eric salivate nonetheless. He smiles when Kyle hands him his plate._

_"So how was your day at, uh... where do you work?"_

_"The business factory," Kyle replies, not looking up from his plate as he digs in._

_They both snort, hiding their laughter behind their hands._

_"Oh yeah, how was work at the business factory?"_

_Kyle nods, takes a sip of his invisible drink._

_"Good. Busy," he replies, serious again. "We made two hundred businesses today."_

_Eric nods, mouth scrunched up. He's both amused and impressed._

_"Wow, that's a lot."_

_Kyle shakes his head._

_"Actually we're down a little. But that's okay, I'm just happy I get to come home to my..." he sighs, trying to reach across the table. "Beautiful wife."_

_"Ay!" Eric snaps, folding his arms. "I'm not a girl, Kyle!"_

_Kyle frowns, withering and retracting his hand._

_"Oh, then uh, my handsome husband."_

_A smile flickers in the corner of Eric's mouth and he flushes, watching Kyle take a bite out of the pot roast. Kyle makes a muffled, full-mouthed noise of approval._

_"Mmm, that really is delicious."_

_That flickering smile spreads across Eric's face, his cheeks now burning._

_After dinner, they wash the dishes and head into the living room. Kyle loosens his tie, and Eric kicks his shoes off before they flop onto the couch. They watch TV, Kyle is in control of the remote and he must be changing channels all the time because the TV just flickers with quick, half-formed images of old movies, and shows, and scraps of memory that only unnerve Eric for a second when he sees them projected onto the screen. He doesn't get annoyed, or irritated by Kyle's incessant channel hopping, and Kyle doesn't even seem frustrated that they can't find anything to actually watch. Instead, he sits there with his arm draped around the back of the couch, gradually lowering until his fingers are absent-mindedly stroking Eric's shoulder. Eric relaxes immediately, curled up and snuggling into Kyle's side like Mr Kitty does when Eric is watching TV and not yelling at her._

_He still doesn't completely understand why or how this is all happening, but Kyle's warm body and gentle touch makes him feel like it's all okay, tingly all over with contentment he usually associates with being alone. After what feels like less than an hour, Kyle suddenly turns the TV off. He sits up, carefully extracting Eric from his side. He stands up and stretches._

_"Alright, bed time," he announces._

_Eric's brow furrows, pouting a little because he was enjoying their TV time._

_"Bed time? It's still early!"_

_"No, it's not. It's nearly midnight."_

_Eric looks at a random wall hoping to find a clock there, and one just happens to materialise. It is in fact nearly midnight, and Eric's heart clenches at the speed of which everything is happening because it feels like no time has passed at all._

_"Oh..." he nods, deflated, following Kyle upstairs._

_When Kyle slides into bed, he's changed into a pair of plaid pyjamas. The lifting of the quilt reveals to Eric that he's wearing a floor-length, silky nightgown. He wants to protest, press the covers closer to him to disguise his outfit, but Kyle doesn't seem to care. He lies next to him, with a smile free of any mockery or malice. The quilt is pulled up to their chins, and Eric feels arthritically stiff. The sheets rustle, and he can't move when Kyle leans across and places a kiss on his cheek. It flushes hot and pink beneath Kyle's lips._

_"Good night," he murmurs._

_Wringing the sheets in his hand, Eric chews his lip before deciding he's not going to over-think this and presses a quick kiss to Kyle's cheek too. He's careful to avoid his mouth._

_"Good night," he replies in a breathy rush._

_He expects Kyle to turn off the lamp by his bed, but instead he stares up at the ceiling. His hand is on his chest, and he drums his fingers there as he contemplates something. Eric waits with bated breath to hear what that something is._

_Finally, Kyle turns to him with a little dent in his brow._

_"We should do what moms and dads do in bed."_

_The words make Eric prickle, stuffier than ever under the covers. His mind fills with a million questions, namely if this is all a big joke and how serious Kyle is. But he ignores them all._

_"I don't have a dad," he replies, mouth dry. "I don't know what moms and dads do."_

_Kyle snorts, arches a knowing eyebrow at him._

_"Come on, Cartman, you know what they do... okay, I'll put it in terms relatable to you." He rolls his eyes. "What do moms, and dumb, druggie boyfriends do?"_

_Just like the TV, his mind projects memories onto the wall. He remembers walking in on his mom and the annoying, sketchy dudes she used to bring home. He sees them on the wall now with no clothes on, bent over her and making these disgusting, choked-off noises while her legs bounce over their shoulders and she cries out like she's in pain. Eric grits his teeth, panic needling at his chest, and it feels like he's going to throw up his invisible pot roast._

_"Fuck you, Kyle!" he snaps. "I'm not doing that with you!"_

_He turns away from Kyle, pulling the quilt up over his head and shaking in the dark. He hears Kyle sigh and feels him come closer._

_"Sorry..." He slides his hand under the sheets, and grasps Eric's side, gathering the flimsy material in his fingers. "I don't wanna do that either."_

_Eric doesn't move for a second, letting his heartbeat mellow and his breathing even out. When his body gets the message that it's okay to turn around, Kyle is staring at him intently. He doesn't laugh at his wayward hair as he emerges from under the covers. In fact, Eric has never seen him look so earnest as he fixes the strands._

_"Then what do you wanna-"_

_Eric is cut off by a long, gentle kiss that seems to suck all the breath out of him. He's light-headed and panting when Kyle pulls away. He doesn't look any different, as earnest as before_

_"_ This _is what I want to do," Kyle clarifies, looking straight into Eric's eyes._

_Eric nods and they kiss again, harder this time. They both hold their breath for a little bit before they release it, hot and slow through their noses. Eric doesn't know for sure if it's making out, because their lips don't part and their tongues don't meet, it's just a fast, enthusiastic exchange of pecks to each other's lips, but Eric never wants it to end. When it feels like Kyle is pulling back, Eric just tugs him closer and Kyle seems more than happy to give him more, more, more._

_"Kyle..." he gasps, clutching at his shirt and hair._

Eric wakes himself up with a loud whimper. Much to his disappointment he wakes up alone in his regular pyjamas.

"The fuck..." he mutters.

"Teehee!"

Eric looks up to see Cupid Me giggling with delight.

"Cupid Me!" he yells. "What the fuck, is this your fault?"

"Is what my fault, Eric?" he can't ask it without giggling some more.

"That dream I just had! I was playing house with Kyle... Kyle... " dread crawls over his skin as the irreversible, confusing dream comes back to him. "Why the fuck did I dream about Kyle?"

"Because you're gay for him!" Cupid Me replies, like it's so obvious.

"What?! No! Cupid Me, that is disgusting! I'll be gay for anyone else, even Butters! But not _Kyle!"_

Cupid Me folds his arms and sighs.

"If you're not gay for Kyle, then why do you act so gay for him?"

Eric blusters, not even knowing where to start with how ludicrous that all sounds.

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"You said you wanted to hold him every morning, and love him every night-"

"That was sarcasm!" Eric cries, though the memory has curdled thanks to that awful dream, and how happy it made him feel. "I was trying to get him away from Nichole!"

"You went across the country just so he would suck your balls-"

"Because he lost a bet! That wasn't a gay thing, it was a Kyle thing!"

Cupid Me sighs, as irritable as he can possibly be.

"Going all the way to San Francisco to rescue him from that storm was a Kyle thing too. They're the same thing!"

Eric bangs his fists against the mattress and cries through his teeth. God, he's tired of having to justify these things.

"No, they're not! How many times do I have to tell you, Cupid Me? I am not homosexual, and I am especially not homosexual for Kyle!"

Eric doesn't want to discuss this anymore, he can't talk to Cupid Me when he's being like this. He just wants to sleep. Scowling, he rolls over and pulls his quilt up over him.

Cupid Me isn't deterred, and Eric glares at him as he flutters to the other side of him.

"If you did want Kyle though you could have him..."

Eric blinks, intrigued. He sits up, emerging from the covers.

"I could?"

Eric knows he's a wanter. He wants desperately for things he can't have, so imagine his intrigue and fascination when things are apparently easier to reach than first thought. He doesn't know if he wants Kyle, of course, but it's nice to know he could have him... you know, if he really wanted to.

Cupid Me nods.

"You and Kyle are the same, and what do I always say?"

Eric sighs, before they say in unison: "People who are the same belong together."

It makes it seem like he and Kyle are destined to be together. They're destined to kiss, and hold hands, and enjoy each other's company, just like in the dream. Really, this is something bigger than Eric so he can't exactly be stubborn, or picky about who the universe is telling him he's meant to be with.

"Well, even if I did want him - which I don't! - how would I go about doing that exactly?"

"You just have to put yourself out there and wait."

Eric slouches in disappointment, eyebrows raised.

"That's it?"

Cupid Me nods, smirking with his chin raised.

"You're not gonna help me?"

"My work here is done."

Eric's brow furrows, how is Cupid Me's work done when they haven't even started yet? Unless he really has been trying to tell him something about Kyle all along...

"What... you've been waiting for this the whole time?"

"Teehee, of course! I've served my purpose. I've helped you come to terms with yourself!"

Eric starts shaking with rage under the covers. This is bullshit!

"No!" Eric protests. "No, you can't just leave when I need you the most! I..." his head drops, his whole body suddenly feels heavier. He looks up at Cupid Me, frowning. "I don't want you to go..."

Cupid Me sighs and flutters closer, so he's right in Eric's face.

"I love you, Eric, but sometimes when you love someone you have to let them go. Like your stuffed animals, remember?"

Eric nods. He wasn't entirely ready to let his stuffed animals go, and he isn't ready to let Cupid Me go either. He supposes this is just another chapter of growing up, but why does it always have to happen so drastically, with no warning?

"Would it make you feel better if you said goodbye to me like you did to them?"

Eric sighs, long and slow, before he nods.

"I guess..."

Cupid Me nods too, with a small, sad smile.

Eric throws the covers back and plods over to his closet, retrieving his baseball bat and taking a few, melancholic practice swings. It's the first time Eric has seen Cupid Me without any mischievousness bubbling beneath the surface, he always looks somewhat happy and giddy but now he just looks serene, resigned to his fate with no regrets. 

Eric's eyes burn with tears, and he smiles tightly.

"I love you too, Cupid Me."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Eric takes a swing and feels the bat connect with the little cherub. He cries out in pain, and Eric can hear him hit the wall. He opens his eyes, watches Cupid Me slide down the wall, crumpled and disorientated. Eric stalks over to him, fuming and angry because it's the only way he can do this. As he brings the bat down on Cupid Me again and again, he thinks about how that little part of him that is not-gay-but-isn't-straight-either is actually totally gay and something inextricably and unavoidably woven into his identity. He can't deny it anymore, and he tries to crush the realisation like Cupid Me beneath his bat but he knows he can't. He also knows he can't deny that Kyle is at the centre of all of this. He's his worst enemy, and his rival, and one of his best friends, but he's also his ally, and his first ever crush on a boy. It terrifies him and infuriates him, but he supposes it's rather fitting. Kyle causes him problems in every facet of his life, so why should this be any different?

When Cupid Me is a bruised, bleeding mess on the floor, Eric stops. He sobs silently as he scoops him up and places him in a shoebox, a makeshift crypt. He puts the shoebox in his closet, feeling relieved and lighter as he returns to bed. But he can't sleep, afraid of closing his eyes and dreaming of Kyle.

* * *

Kyle has been thinking a lot about his sexuality lately. Hardly surprising, since it's Pride Month and there are rainbow stickers on every locker in the hallways. It only exacerbates the scrutiny on every facet of his developing self that most 14 year olds experience anyway, and add this to the fact that Jimbo and Ned have just got married and it's really no surprise at all that this has culminated in a lot of introspection that Kyle has been wrestling with for years, and honestly, feels like he's going around in circles with.

But school will be out in a few weeks, and he'll have the entire summer to just hang out and have fun with his friends, and any late night obsessing won't be tinged with guilt and dread that he has to go to school the next day seriously sleep-deprived. Still, it's the first week of June, and he, Stan, and Kenny have just taken their seats in the auditorium for their first assembly to kick off Pride Month.

"Alright, everyone, listen up," PC Principal speaks into the mic. He's brash sure, but Kyle is admittedly glad that he took up the Principal position at the high school when it was made available. He fears without his influence, their classmates will slip back into bad habits. "So as you all know this month is Pride Month, and while we should be celebrating the LGBTQIA community _all year round,_ this month in particular we're gonna be shining a spotlight on LGBT plus issues and on our LGBT plus community we have right here in our school. So we're gonna kick off Pride Month with a very special assembly. This student came to me, wanting to share his story and take a big step in his journey of self-love and acceptance, and we thought now would be the perfect opportunity to do so, through song. Please welcome to the stage, Eric Cartman."

He punctuates his speech with light, rapid clapping that prompts mild, obligatory applause from the audience. The only ones that aren't clapping are Cartman's best friends. In fact, Kyle is frozen, unable to move or think because this has hit him out of fucking nowhere. Is Cartman actually going to... Kyle didn't even have a chance to prepare for this! He tries to tell himself it's not important, but it is.

"Oh god," Stan says with an uncomfortable, bracing breath.

"Cartman?" The word slips out of Kyle's mouth as his brain switches back on, and just uttering his name thaws his anger out. "Cartman, what the fuck?" he turns to Kenny. "Did you-"

Kenny shrugs, just as bewildered. Kyle opens his mouth to probe further, but is distracted by Tweek walking out onto the stage and taking a seat at the piano. The curtains are still closed. Cartman walks out in front of them, stride purposeful and chin raised. He's wearing a long, black coat and he simply nods at Tweek to prompt him to play. His fingers glide across the keys, playing an eerily familiar riff. Cartman starts to sing.

" _Bombs are flying, people are dying. Children are crying, politicians are lying too._.."

Kyle turns to Stan, and he's already staring at him with wide, mortified eyes. They know exactly what's coming.

" _Cancer is killing, Texaco's spilling,"_ Cartman takes the mic off the stand and wanders the stage, wistful. " _The whole world's gone to hell, but how are you?"_

It's then Cartman rips open his coat to reveal a sequined, rainbow catsuit that some 70s rockstar would wear. When the lights hit the sequins just right, he really looks like a chubby disco ball. The curtains also open to reveal the brass section of the school band accompanying Tweek on piano, and flashing neon rainbows, and pink intertwined male chromosome symbols hanging from the ceiling.

" _I'm super, thanks for asking! All things considered I couldn't be better, I must say! I'm feeling super, no nothing bugs me! Everything is super when you're - don't you think I look cute in this hat?"_

Cartman produces a matching top hat out of nowhere, placing it on his head with an exaggerated wink at the audience, who right now are going wild. The performance goes on with Cartman bopping around the stage, spinning and belting out the song, and even doing some pretty impressive choreography with some members of the drama club he roped in to be backing singers/dancers. Kyle watches in awe the entire time, resenting every second but unable to look away. It's only a couple more minutes, but Kyle can hardly bear anymore as the performance comes to an end.

" _Everything is super when you're gaaaay!"_ Cartman and his chorus belt out. " _When you're gay!"_

Cartman drops to his knees and reaches to the ceiling when he's finished, panting, flushed and glistening with sweat. The whole auditorium is on their feet, even Stan and Kenny, cheering and clapping while Cartman beams so hard his face may crack, soaking it all in. Kyle, on the other hand, is irritated, and indignant, and he feels almost cheated. Cartman takes a bow with his chorus, and waves to the crowd like all these people are his adoring fans.

"Wow..." Kenny nods, smiling.

Stan chuckles.

"It was a little much, but... good for him, I guess."

Kyle looks between Stan and Kenny, betrayed.

"Are you guys kidding me?" he snaps. His voice has reached an irate octave he especially doesn't like now his voice cracks on a regular basis. "That was awful! It was stereotypical, and attention-seeking, and way over the top! I..." Kyle shakes his head, glaring at Cartman. "I'm gonna say something..."

He gets up, and pushes past Kenny, but is quickly tugged back by the collar of his shirt.

"Kyle, no!" Kenny says, shoving him back into his seat. Kyle stares up at him, bewildered. "Stay!"

"Are you seriously talking to me like I'm a fucking dog?"

Stan sighs.

"Kenny's right, dude," he says, though glares at him in disapproval of his methods. He puts a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Don't do this now. It won't make you look good, and it's not as if you can put him back in the closet and dictate how he should come out."

Kyle frowns, stares helplessly between his two friends.

"But-"

"Just let him have this?" Kenny cuts him off. "You can talk to him when he's alone."

Kyle doesn't argue further, just pouts and slouches in his seat with arms folded. He starts tapping his foot to soothe his impatience. He just can't wait to give Cartman a piece of his mind. He watches Cartman and his crew disappear backstage, and then it takes forever for PC Principal to make a couple more announcements, and for the emptying of the auditorium to commence. It's about a quarter empty before Kyle can't take it anymore.

"Okay, that does it," he says, raising his hands. "I waited long enough."

Kenny and Stan both sigh as Kyle shoves past them.

"Fine, have fun," Kenny replies. "See you at lunch."

Kyle doesn't even stop to ask Kenny what could possibly be fun about what he's about to do, because he has to catch Cartman before he leaves. He jogs down the steps and storms backstage, relieved to see Cartman still there, chatting with Tweek and the drama club guys as he packs his ridiculous costume away. He looks smug, and content, and it's surprisingly easy for Kyle to smother his guilt about potentially ruining his big moment.

"What the fuck was that?" he snaps.

Tweek and the drama club stop to look at him with furrowed brows and frowns that make Kyle wither. Cartman just smiles, his eyebrows twitching with only the tiniest hint of confusion.

"Oh hey, Kyle. Did you like the show?"

Kyle hates that he referred to his coming out as a 'show.' It only emboldens him.

"No! No, I did not! What the hell is wrong with you? All of you!" He casts his furious glare over everyone. "Coming out shouldn't be some garish spectacle, it undermines the struggle so many LGBT people face when they come out!"

"Actually, Kyle, there are no rules on how you can come out," Tweek replies. He's mellowed out over the years, but he's still twitchy and he tugs at his hair as he speaks. "You can come out however you want."

"Yeah, why does it have to be some big, scary occasion? Maybe I did it so my peers who are gay can see this is as a positive, uplifting thing, and take some of the anxiety out of it?"

Kyle scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, right." He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at Cartman. "Since when do you make decisions based on the good of other people?"

Cartman rolls his eyes to the ceiling, body slumping in exasperated defeat.

"Alright, never but maybe I just wanted to do this for my fucking self, Kyle! Maybe I was ready to come out and this is the way I wanted to do it! And when you come out you can do it in whatever sombre, understated way you choose but don't take your internalised homophobia out on me!"

Cartman's words take the breath right out of Kyle, the force of them almost enough to make him stumble.

"What?!" he cries. "Why would you... I'm not!" The confused stares of all these people who hardly know him are like relentless suns beating down on him. His face is burning. "Not that there's anything wrong with being... um...but I'm not!"

Cartman smirks, coolly observing it all.

"Guys, can we have the room?"

Tweek and the other guys look around, grateful for an excuse to leave.

"Um, sure..." Tweek replies, hitching up the straps of his backpack. He doesn't look at Kyle as he brushes past him.

"What the hell, Cartman?" Kyle hisses when they're alone, he charges over to him. "Why would you say that?"

Cartman sighs, weary and matter-of-fact.

"Kyle, we're a bit more grown-up now. Let's not hide the fact we totally got away with saying 'fag' because we're gay."

Kyle grits his teeth, body effervescent with anger. His cheeks are burning again.

"That doesn't mean anything, Cartman! You know, if you're such an expert, you should probably recognise that sexuality is fluid!"

It's then Cartman cracks, huffing with derision.

"Yeah, but not for everyone! I'm never, ever going to want to be with a girl."

"Well, maybe I do!"

Kyle doesn't know if he does. But he hasn't ruled it out yet.

Cartman's face seems to twitch with something, and it's like he's looking straight through Kyle. He begins to close the gap between them, and his distant eyes roam Kyle's face.

"Doesn't change the fact that there's a little part of you that wants to be with a boy too."

Kyle opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, not knowing what to say. Not that it matters, Cartman wouldn't listen. He sighs again, and it's still weary but a lot more understanding. Pitiful, actually, which Kyle finds even more condescending and insulting.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Kyle," he says, stepping closer when Kyle steps back. "You don't need to be embarrassed about it."

Kyle doesn't realise Cartman is touching him until he brushes some hair away from his brow. He freezes, looking between Cartman's hand and his unreadable face.

"What are you doing?"

A smile flickers, igniting something wicked in his eyes.

"Nothing, just playing a little gay chicken."

"What?" Kyle asks, exhausted. He can't keep up with this strange, electric exchange.

"Gay chicken?" Cartman raises his eyebrows."It's when two guys see how close they can get their lips without kissing."

Kyle stares, wide-eyed as Cartman's face inches closer and closer to his. A smile is dying to spread across his face. He shakes his head.

"You're not gonna kiss me."

"Then why haven't you turned away yet?"

Kyle has no idea why. It's confusing, but exciting, and he guesses he wants to see how far Cartman is willing to go just to get a rise out of him. He wants to see how far he will let Cartman push it.

"Because if I turn away I lose, right?"

Cartman pauses, and grins.

"Exactly..."

Kyle smirks, straightening his shoulders and staring at Cartman's mouth. He feels filled to the brim with this new, scary confidence, drunk on it almost.

"Then give it your best shot."

It's all so agonisingly slow. Kyle's heart feels heavy in his chest, pounding rather than racing, like the sound of menacing footsteps down a hallway in a horror movie. Cartman's smile has vanished completely, and they're close enough now they can taste each other's hot breath. Kyle's mouth is as dry as a desert, and he can see and smell the dewy sweat on Cartman's skin. Honestly, he feels just as sweaty. He can't stop staring at Cartman's lips, wondering how he would react if Cartman pressed them to his own, and what would happen afterwards. He's starting to realise that either way he'll lose. He either lets Cartman kiss him, or he turns away, or he caves and kisses Cartman back. None of those options feel like victories, they all provide Cartman with material to rip on him. He just wishes Cartman would let this go, break them out of this stalemate.

Then suddenly, Cartman grins and before Kyle can question it, he's kissing his jaw. Kyle stiffens immediately, wanting to recoil but in too much of a daze to do anything. Instead, he lets Cartman grip his hips and pull him closer, burying his face in his neck and kissing him there like he's in a world of his own, not caring about Kyle's reaction at all. But all Kyle can really do is gasp and melt into his touch, and into the feeling of being kissed where he has never been kissed before. He clings to Cartman's shoulders, every second toying between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

"No..." he murmurs, embarrassment and indignation overwhelming any desire, especially when he realises this is not the game he signed up for. "No, that's cheating!" he cries, shoving Cartman away. "I..."

Cartman is panting, looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and shock. Kyle doesn't know what to say to him, he's too distracted by his damn mouth. He swallows the lump in his throat and huffs, grabbing Cartman by his shirt and pulling him to his lips. He stumbles back from the force of it, and hates it but still moans when Cartman keeps him upright and presses him closer, smushing their already numb mouths together. Kyle likes that numb feeling though, it lets him forget who he's kissing, which is why it's so easy for their tongues to meet without a second thought. But too soon he remembers, and whatever scrap of rationale he has left shoves Cartman away from him.

There's enough distance between them that Kyle won't be drawn to kissing him again, and he wipes his mouth.

"That wasn't cheating, actually," Cartman points out, still breathless. "That was being savvy..."

Kyle glares at him, still wiping his mouth and not appreciating the joke. Cartman frowns, stony-faced and serious. He sighs and steps closer.

"Look, I won't tell anyone."

Kyle regards him sceptically. For the first time ever, he's scared to open his mouth around Cartman.

"I don't want anyone to know we've kissed just as much as you do."

Kyle nods slowly. He can believe that.

He smoothes down his shirt, and scratches the nape of his neck.

"Good. This was..." he looks straight into Cartman's eyes. "This was a one-time thing, okay?"

Kyle becomes nervous again when Cartman's eyes glaze over once more, wandering somewhere Kyle can't reach. It takes him way too long to smile and nod in agreement.

"Sure... "

He goes to leave, totally catching Kyle off guard when he kisses his cheek as he passes. Kyle can feel him grinning against his face.

"Happy Pride Month, Kyle."

* * *

It's prom night, and Kyle wonders if it's normal to feel this melancholy. He doesn't have a date, which may explain why he's feeling low. This could have been easily remedied, Kyle is aware, by actually asking someone to prom. But he still hasn't come out yet, and none of the guys he finds attractive are gay or available, and despite what he said to Cartman all those years ago, an interest in girls has not formed and probably never will. He thinks maybe he would feel a little better if he had been asked to prom, but he received no invitations to even reject. Not even from Cartman, which was... if not disappointing, then disheartening. He shouldn't be so surprised. Even though they kissed, Cartman was true to his word in never speaking of it again, and as always, everything just reset. Kyle often feels like his life is just a series of frightening, ludicrous events that leave deep scars that heal perfectly fine only on the surface. He's starting to think his environment is to blame. He can't wait until September, to move to a whole new place, with whole new people and hopefully things will happen and actually fucking matter to anyone other than his neuroses.

But right now, he's sat at their table with Stan and Wendy, Kenny and Bebe, and an equally single Cartman. The evening is better when they're all together like this, just hanging out and talking. He doesn't feel so alone. But when the couples in their group get up to dance, or have their photos taken he's reminded that he came here all alone.

Conversation slows to a confused halt when the band starts playing a song that is wildly different from their usual, indie fare.

_"I never meant to be so bad to you, one thing I said that I would never do..."_

"What the hell..." Stan mutters.

Wendy chuckles, staring at the band with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Gotta say, I was not expecting this to be in their repertoire."

"Yeah, me neither."

"What?" Cartman exclaims. "This song is a fucking classic!"

Kenny's brow is furrowed in deep concentration, and he looks at a spot on the floor before turning to Cartman.

"Hey, isn't this the song you sang in front of congress when I died that one time?"

Cartman nods and takes a sip of his drink.

"The very same."

Kenny arches his eyebrow.

"Pretty, uh, intense lyrics."

"Well, I needed to rouse the crowd! Get people on side!"

"Wait, let's go back to the part where you said you died?" Bebe asks.

Kyle just rolls his eyes, knowing that nobody is looking at him.

"Yeah, I died."

"What, for like a second, and you were resuscitated or..."

"No, like, I actually died and I was gone for about..." Kenny looks to Cartman again, the only person who finds this joke funny. "I wanna say a year?"

Cartman shakes his head, totally serious.

"No, it wasn't that long. The ages of eight and ten are a blur now though." He looks at Kyle and Stan. "How long do you guys think it was?"

"Drop it, Cartman..." Kyle warns, not in the mood.

"Yeah, Kyle and I are not gonna be a part of this dumb inside joke, okay?"

Cartman scoffs, with gleaming, indignant eyes.

"It's not a joke! Kenny-"

Kenny sighs, sounding genuinely weary. He shakes his head.

"Dude, I'm sick of repeating myself." He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. "Let's just drop it."

Bebe is still frowning, confused. She looks up at Kenny.

"So you didn't die?"

"No, of course not. That's just an inside joke between me and Cartman," Kenny replies, quickly dismissing the joke before he smiles. "This song is fucking fire though, so would you care to join me in a dance?"

He holds out his hand, and Bebe smirks at him, impressed.

"With an invitation like that how can I refuse?" she replies, taking Kenny's hand and getting to her feet. She smiles at Stan and Wendy. "You guys coming too?"

"Yeah, of course," Stan says, already helping Wendy up.

Kyle smothers the feeling of disappointment and anxiety welling up inside him.

"Aren't you guys coming as well?" Bebe asks.

Kyle looks at Cartman to find him looking just as uncomfortable and caught off-guard by the question. He doesn't know why they need to look at each other, but he supposes Cartman has been his unofficial ally for years now.

Kyle averts his stare and shakes his head, looking away.

"No, I'm good..."

Cartman nods.

"Me too..."

Bebe rolls her eyes.

"Just because you guys don't have dates doesn't mean you can't-"

"Forget it," Kenny cuts her off, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Come on, before the song ends."

Kenny shoots Kyle a sympathetic smile as he leads Bebe away, and it sours Kyle too much for him to return it. He doesn't need his pity.

"What was with that look he gave us?" Cartman's question jolts him out of his thoughts. Clearly, that look wasn't just reserved for Kyle. "He looked at us like we were fucking tragic."

Kyle blinks, considers acknowledging it before deciding that if Cartman really is his ally, then they should behave in such a manner.

"I know, right?" He wants to change the subject, keep the conversation moving but doesn't know how. His eyes roam the decorated gym as he thinks of something new to talk about. "Who were you supposed to sing this song to again?"

Kyle didn't want to play along with Kenny and Cartman's inside joke. He thinks it's dumb, and weird, and not funny at all, but he tells himself this question is more about scrutinising the joke than falling for it.

Cartman grins, the way he always does when he sees right through him.

"Congress." He twists in his seat to face Kyle fully. "You really don't remember? Kenny had this muscle wasting disease, I had all these aborted foetuses that could've been used for stem cell research to save Kenny's life, but they were banned hence the emotional plea to congress?"

Kyle snorts.

"Of all the dumb stories you and Kenny have made up about him dying that is by far the most convoluted. How do you come up with them all?"

"I hang out at his place once a week, we get stoned and come up with them then."

"Now I know you're lying. You never go to Kenny's house alone."

Cartman laughs, rakes his gaze over Kyle in a contemplative manner that makes him rather uncomfortable, before he tears his gaze away from him and looks to the dancefloor.

"You sure you don't wanna go up and dance?"

Kyle nods, shoulders drawing up a little, prickling at the very thought of it.

"I hate dancing," he replies, but his eyes are drawn to the dancefloor nonetheless. "Do you wanna go up there?"

Cartman shakes his head, nose wrinkled.

"Not alone. That would be sad."

Kyle looks around the gym again, this time not for a new topic of conversation but studying his surroundings. Is this really the best place for them to be tonight? Is staying here because some insignificant, unwritten rule says they have to worth it? Kyle has visions of walking out of there and feeling free.

"Then why don't we just leave?"

Cartman balks a little, eyes widening before he nods.

"Okay..." he says, voice brimming with enthusiasm. He clears his throat to regulate it. "Where would you wanna go?"

Kyle shrugs, throws his hands up.

"I don't know, let's just... let's just get some alcohol first and then we'll figure it out. Do you have your fake ID?"

Cartman grins, infectious.

"Always."

Kyle chuckles, and he and Cartman leave briskly without saying goodbye to the guys. He does indeed feel freer and lighter as he strolls down the deserted halls with Cartman. They're bright and starkly lit, but Kyle prefers it to the dusky disco lights of the prom. He feels like the heavy, oversized tablecloths were hanging on his shoulders, and now he's discarded in the halls.

That feeling of relief and freedom is replaced by fluttering anxiety when they near the liquor store. He has never been there when Cartman purchases alcohol with his fake ID, but he keeps quiet and purses his lips to smother his smiles as they buy a crate of beer, and a couple of bottles of vodka and whiskey. Kyle has never drank that much ever, and he doesn't know if he wants to drink even half of what he's purchased, but he supposes panic and excitement got the better of him.

"We've got quite the selection here," Cartman chuckles when they leave the store.

Kyle snickers, glad the dark evening hides his warm face.

"Yeah, I guess we got a little derailed. Where are we gonna drink it?"

They are limited on their choice of venue, admittedly. Kyle is thinking maybe Stark's, and that the whiskey may turn out to be a good choice because it would at least warm them up.

Cartman shrugs.

"My house?"

Kyle blinks, eyebrows raised.

"Your house?"

"Sure."

Kyle looks at the bags.

"Your mom won't mind?" he asks, lifting them up to emphasise his point.

"Would it matter if she does? Besides, she's probably had a bottle of wine to herself by now."

Kyle chuckles, and follows Cartman home. When they arrive at his house, his mom is indeed up with a glass of wine, curled up under a blanket and watching _La La Land._

She jumps when Cartman and Kyle walk in, hand pressed to her chest.

"Oh, sweetie," she sighs in relief, smiling. "I didn't realise you would be home so early."

"Yeah, prom kinda sucked," Cartman replies, not even hiding the bags of booze. "Kyle and I are just gonna hang out upstairs."

Kyle gives her a shy smile.

"Hi, Miss Cartman."

Miss Cartman beams at him, like she does every time she sees him or any of Cartman's friends.

"Hello, Kyle. You boys have fun!" she calls when they jog up the stairs.

"You're such a fucking dork." Cartman chuckles. "'Hi, Miss Cartman,'" he says, in a breathless, giggling imitation of Kyle's voice.

He laughs harder when Kyle elbows him,

"Shut up, dude, I was being polite!"

It comes quite naturally to lounge on Cartman's bed, just drinking and talking. It's pretty relaxing until Cartman tries to open a bottle of beer with his knee like he saw some country boy do on TikTok. It takes him a few attempts, but when he does the beer sprays everywhere. Kyle finds this way more hilarious than it actually is, because he's pretty drunk by this point and when Cartman starts laughing as well it's hard to stop. They order pizza when they both get hungry, and resume lounging on Cartman's beer soaked bed with a pepperoni pizza between them, watching the latest season of _It's Always Sunny_.

"Dude, he got so fucking hot," Cartman comments out of nowhere, eyes firmly fixed on Rob McElhenney.

Kyle wrinkles his nose.

"I don't like it, it doesn't track. Like, the whole point of Mac getting fat was to make fun of the fact that sitcom characters seem to get more glamorous with age when that's not true in real life."

Cartman shrugs, tearing the crust off his pizza.

"Doesn't make him any less fuckable."

Kyle rolls his eyes, but sighs when it hits him how disgusting he feels right now, full of beer and pizza.

"I kinda feel like season seven Mac right now though. This is so gross."

Cartman smirks at him.

"Yeah, you're looking kinda bloated," he says, poking Kyle's belly.

Kyle looks at him with eyebrows raised, not because of what he just did but because of his nerve.

"Like you're one to talk!" He replies, shoving Cartman harder. Like before, he just laughs.

After finishing the pizza and nearly finishing the season, they fall asleep. Kyle feels bloated, and drunk, and hazy, but also the most contented he's felt in a long time. An undeterminable amount of time later he stirs from an oppressive sleep, with an arm draped over his waist and a warm body pressed against him. He groans, trying to move away but is too lethargic to do so. He's alerted by a warm, wet patch on his neck.

"Cartman..." Kyle grumbles, twisting a little in his one-armed embrace. "Cartman, move!"

Kyle's elbow connects with his belly, eliciting a huff and a groggy groan.

"Okay, okay, fuck..." Cartman rasps, sliding his arm away from Kyle's waist.

"You drooled on me!"

"Okay, sorry just shut up..."

He rolls onto his back, his snoring more pronounced now he's not partially muffled by Kyle's neck. There's a noticeable lack, and it makes Kyle shiver. He's never had somebody hold him while he sleeps, and it's honestly kind of nice. He rolls over, studying Cartman and thinking about their kiss all those years ago. Even now it makes Kyle all tingly and warm. Would Cartman want to do it again? He shuffles closer, deciding to test the waters. He places a hand on his chest, and its slow, heavy rise and fall steadies him. He places a kiss on his cheek. Cartman doesn't stir, and Kyle kisses along his jaw, hand sliding up his neck and onto his face. He both hopes this will wake Cartman up, and that he'll remain asleep and oblivious as he peppers kisses on his jawline and inhales the scent of cologne and alcohol.

"Kyle... " he rasps, stirring below him. "Kyle, what are you..."

Kyle grumbles, pushing any trepidation aside. He's still drunk enough to not feel nervous.

"Just let me..."

Before Cartman can protest, Kyle cups his face and directs him to his lips. Their kisses are languid and disorientated, Cartman's mouth moves mechanically against Kyle's like he's trying to mirror him exactly. But he soon gets the picture and presses harder, resting his arms either side of Kyle's head and rolling on top of him. Kyle drags his fingers through Cartman's hair when their tongues meet, wonderfully wet when their mouths are dry and dehydrated. One of Kyle's hands wanders down Cartman's neck and onto his chest, pushing him on his side. It emboldens Kyle and encourages Cartman to touch wherever they can reach. Kyle's leg has slid in between Cartman's, and his crotch is rubbing up against his hip, but he wants the hand that is clutching his back, running over his chest and cupping his face to give him some relief. He catches Cartman's indecisive hand, holding his wrist and guiding it to his crotch. Both of their hands are shaking. Kyle chokes on a gasp and keens to Cartman's palm immediately as he cups his growing bulge.

"Fuck yeah..." Cartman murmurs, so husky, so absent-minded, so close to Kyle's lips that he could cum right there.

Cartman wastes no time unzipping his fly and delving into his boxers. Kyle's body stiffens, and then melts with a long, breathy moan as Cartman jerks him off. Blinking to keep his eyes open and trying to catch his breath at regular intervals means it takes a while for Kyle to do the same to Cartman. He doesn't think as he unzips his fly, and reaches for his cock. His mind whirs, and the room sways for a little bit as it hits him that he is holding a hard cock that's not his own. Excerpts from _The_ _Valley of the Penises_ come to mind, and Kyle ploughs through a ton as his hand matches Cartman's vigorous tempo, trying to land on a description that fits. He settles on the scene where Rebecca jerks off the new gardener in the greenhouse, and his cock is described as a thick and full treat, substantial in girth if not necessarily length, but one so sweet to suck on you could do so for hours until its creamy, abundant centre spurts out. Kyle has never really been into the idea of a dick in his ass, but he's into the idea of sucking Cartman off to get to his own centre, especially if it means he makes more of his pleased groans, and cute whines.

Their lips meet, but gone are the smacking lip locks of before. Their kisses are brushes of lips and tongues, exchanging open-mouthed gasps and hot, ragged breaths. Cartman nuzzles Kyle's jaw and buries his face in his neck, kissing him there like he did before. 

"I think I love you..." he murmurs, and it's like a spell has been broken for Kyle.

He shoves Cartman away from him, probably more roughly than he intended but alarm bells are ringing and he needs to remove himself from the situation.

"What?!" Kyle cries, turning the lamp on.

It reveals Cartman lying there bewildered with his fly open, and his dick out. Kyle looks down and realises he's in exactly the same position. He quickly fixes himself.

"What the fuck, Kyle?!" Cartman snaps, tucking his dick away. "You can't just stop-"

"Yes, I can!" Kyle cries. He's not going to let Cartman distract him though. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

Cartman huffs, embarrassed and desperate.

"Forget about what I said, just... come on, finish me off!" he reaches a hand out to Kyle. "Let me-"

"No!" Kyle yells, recoiling. "No, you..." he's panting, still trying to process all this. He frowns. "You love me?"

Cartman's face has hardened, but when he gulps Kyle can see the cracks appearing.

"I said I think I love you. Th-that's different..."

"How is that different? The fact that you may love me at all is just... insane!"

"How is it insane?" Cartman argues, sitting up. "We've known each other our whole lives, we have fun together, there's clearly something between us-"

"Yeah, bad timing and bad decisions!" Kyle buries his head in his hands, before moving them upwards to grip his hair. "God, why is it always you, Cartman?"

"Wow," Cartman replies, deadpan. He's trying to be sarcastic, but his face betrays that, showing how hurt he really is. "That makes me feel really good, Kyle."

Kyle frowns, face creasing.

"I just mean... why do we always end up in these situations? Why does this keep happening?"

"You tell me! You're the one who wanted to leave prom, and _I'm_ the guy you wanted to leave with!"

Kyle balks, a shiver running down his spine. The speed of which Cartman has turned this around on him has made him clam up.

"Wuh-well, who else was I gonna leave with! You were the only one besides me who didn't have a date!"

Cartman scoffs, and narrows his eyes at him.

"So when did I stop being the convenient fucking option? When I said I think I might be in love with you? Okay, I'll take it back! I've thought about it some more, and actually, I don't love you! Alright? I think you're a self-loathing, stuck-up bitch!"

Kyle grits his teeth, hoping it won't show how much that stung.

"You really think that's gonna make me want to stay here and fool around with you?"

Cartman shrugs, as petulant as always.

"I really don't care anymore."

Kyle huffs, arms folded. He shakes his head, he can't believe he ever saw something in him. He's not embarrassed, or ashamed. In reality, he's disappointed in Cartman, and himself, especially when Cartman is still looking like someone he wants to kiss and touch, and be kissed and touched by.

"Wow, pouting like the spoiled, entitled brat you've always been is really attractive, Cartman. If you really don't care then I'll just go."

"Fine by me." Cartman sighs, lying on his bed and crossing his legs like he really doesn't care. He talks to the ceiling instead of Kyle. "See you next time you're horny and alone."

Kyle grits his teeth, and balls his fists. His glare is boring holes into Cartman and he doesn't even acknowledge him. He tries to tell himself the tears blurring his vision are ones of anger, and he supposes that's partly true.

"I can't fucking wait for this summer to be over and I never have to see you again!" Kyle yells before storming out.

"Same here!" he hears Cartman shout after him.

As he storms home the night feels so much colder without Cartman by his side.

* * *

Kyle's first thoughts as he steps off the official Tegridy Farms shuttle bus are how happy he is to get off a smelly, cramped bus filled with people he's known since he was in diapers, and also that he needs to find Stan immediately. He chatted to his parents on the way up here, but is happy to part with them as they try to find their own friends, and he tries to find his. It's Jimbo and Ned's 10th wedding anniversary, and the Marshes are throwing a big party, and as it's Pride Month, you can bet your ass that Randy is going to really lean into the festivities. There's rainbow bunting dangling from every barn and sign, and the waving, grinning monument to Randy at the farm entrance is now waving a Pride flag. When Kyle was 14, and still very unsure and insecure about himself, he would have been somewhat affronted by all the Pride symbolism, but at 24 and officially out of the closet he can't help but smile at Randy's efforts, even if they're totally cynical.

The party is happening at the main barn, and a rainbow strip has been helpfully spray-painted into the grass to direct people there. Celebrations are warming up when Kyle steps inside, a perpetually bloodshot Towelie is at the decks, and a shimmering, holographic banner reads, 'Happy Anniversary, Jimbo and Ned!' There's photos of them dangling from the beams, and every table is decorated with headache-inducing rainbow table-cloths and place settings. It's easy to be a wallflower at a party like this.

"Kyle!"

He looks around for the source of a familiar voice. He soon sees Stan, who's chatting with his uncles and waving enthusiastically at him.

Kyle smiles, shoulders sagging with relief.

Stan is grinning as he breaks away from the conversation and they approach each other.

"Hey, dude..." Kyle says.

Stan beams at Kyle as he wraps his arms around him, and they fall into an easy hug.

"It's so good to see you..." Stan murmurs behind his ear.

Kyle nods, giving him a squeeze.

"It's good to see you too, man."

"No, I mean it's really good to see you," Stan says as they part, looking into Kyle's eyes and giving his shoulders a squeeze to emphasise his point. He looks like a man who has spent too long a visit to his childhood home. "I need to be around someone who doesn't automatically irritate me... i.e. my entire family." He rolls his eyes as he considers the exceptions. "Well, except my mom and Uncle Jimbo. Gotta remember this is all for him." He says this with a forced smile, gritted teeth, and a clenched, forcefully cheery fist.

Kyle chuckles, and arches an eyebrow, inviting Stan to be honest.

"Are you sure?" he looks around the barn. "Because this is..."

"Extremely over the top? Yeah." He scratches the nape of his neck. "It's allegedly for my Uncle Jimbo. I guess my dad lucked out that his gay brother-in-law's anniversary is during Pride Month."

Kyle chuckles some more, shoves his hands into his pants pockets.

"Yeah, I guess you can't really blame him, right?"

"Kyle! Dude!"

He turns around at the sound of another familiar voice, and sees Kenny bounding over to him with a much more subdued Cartman by his side.

_Shit._

This is the first time Kyle has seen Cartman since leaving for college, and even though they both ended up studying in California they were in completely different cities, but not far enough that Kyle didn't think about him every day for the first few months he was there. Cartman always went straight to Nebraska to celebrate Christmas with his mom and extended family during their winter breaks, so Kyle didn't even have to worry about running into him in South Park. He has to tell himself this is a plus, because if he didn't he would spend his winter breaks feeling just a little bit depressed at his noticeable absence. But it's not as if Kyle has gone cold turkey. Social media keeps him tethered to Cartman, and his influence on Kyle's burgeoning sexuality means that Kyle has now developed a type: chubby, brunet, and disagreeable. He's yet to have a serious boyfriend, and while he doesn't think it's because he's holding out for Cartman, seeking out facsimiles of him means his dating life has been a tad underwhelming thus far.

Kyle turns to Stan, and his glare must be more withering than he thought because Stan is practically shrinking away from him.

"You didn't tell me Cartman would be here?"

Stan sighs.

"I thought if I told you, you wouldn't come."

Kyle rolls his eyes, tips of his ears burning. He's never told anyone what happened on prom night, but the frostiness between him and Cartman for the rest of the summer did not go unnoticed. He doesn't want it to be a big deal. He doesn't want to be the one in their friend group who creates problems or drama. They have Cartman, after all, for better or worse.

"Well, of course I still would've come, I would have just liked some time to - _oof!"_

He's cut off by a surprise bear hug from Kenny. He lets Kenny rock him back and forth for a bit before he's released.

"What the hell you took you so long?" Kenny demands, hitting him hard on the back.

Kyle takes a couple calming breaths, smoothing down his clothes and pointedly avoiding looking at Cartman. He will acknowledge him at some point, but as he was trying to explain to Stan, he needs some time.

"I couldn't get a flight until this morning." He realises that prolonging his obliviousness will make things more awkward. He gives Cartman a small nod and a tight smile. "Hey..."

"Hi, Kyle," Cartman replies, like it hasn't been six years. He looks up from the cake he's eating to rake his gaze over Kyle, it's as preoccupied as usual. "You look good."

Kyle hates how he flushes so abruptly and involuntarily, and prays it's not noticeable.

"Oh, thanks, um... so do you."

A smile twitches in the corner of Cartman's mouth.

"Rainbow cake?" he says, holding out the heavy slice of cake that sits on a sagging paper plate.

"Oh, uh... is that..." he looks at Stan. "Is there weed in there?"

Stan shakes his head.

"No."

"Then sure," Kyle replies, using Cartman's plastic fork to cut off a slither.

The cake is synthetic, and sugary, and bland, but what makes it harder to chew is the fact that Cartman never takes his eyes off him. They hold Kyle's gaze in a vice grip, refusing to acknowledge their two best friends and everybody else in the barn. Kyle wishes he could look away, but he can't.

"Speaking of getting stoned though, aren't you gonna hook us up with some Pride Special, Stan?" Kenny asks, breaking Cartman and Kyle out of their haze.

"Pride Special?"

Stan stares at Kyle, deadpan, and pulls a multi-coloured baggie out of his pants pocket.

"You really think my dad wouldn't?"

Kyle laughs, covering his mouth.

"Oh my god..."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Kenny exclaims. "To the tractor!"

Stan rolls his eyes at Kyle with an exasperated smile as he brushes past him.

"Have you had a sneak preview?" Kenny asks Stan.

"No, only Towelie is allowed sneak previews."

"Kind of a bummer to be second best to a towel, huh?"

"Fuck you, dude!"

Kyle chuckles, before realising he's been left with Cartman to walk to the tractor. He rubs the nape of his neck, and he can't tell if it's his palm or his neck that's sweaty right now.

"So how have you been?" he asks.

Cartman nods, gulping down a mouthful of cake. Kyle is glad that he at least has the cake to focus some of his attention on.

"Yeah, great. I have an exhibition in LA coming up."

Kyle blinks, smiling, and helplessly impressed.

"Wow, that's really cool."

Given his knack for performance, Kyle wasn't surprised when Cartman chose a creative major, but he was surprised that it was something so humble as photography.

"Yeah, a couple of my college friends roped me into it. How are things with you?"

"Fine, busy... stressful, you know, being out in the real world." Kyle chuckles, because he knows that was lame but it's too early in the evening and there's been too much time apart for anything too revealing. Clichés will have to do for now.

Cartman doesn't comment, just snickers and shakes his head.

"It feels like yesterday we were leaving high school."

"Yeah..." Kyle sighs as they step out of the barn and into the blushing evening. He doesn't know if Cartman purposefully wanted him to remember prom night, but it's still raw enough to Kyle that it easily comes to mind.

"Do you have a boyfriend now?"

Kyle takes a small, bracing breath, his shoulders straightening. He was just waiting for Cartman to ask him about this.

"No, not right now."

"Have you had a boyfriend since coming out?"

Kyle rubs his arm, he doesn't want to talk about his boyfriends with the person he constantly compares them to.

"Not a serious one. Have you?" Kyle asks this, although he knows the answer. He would have spotted a potential boyfriend on social media, after all.

Cartman shakes his head, finishing the last slither of cake.

"No..."

With that, he hurls the paper plate into the fields like a frisbee.

Stan and Kenny have already climbed into the tractor, and are rolling a joint. The tractor, much like the massive monument to Randy at the farm entrance, was for commercial and tourism purposes only. It has Randy painted on the side like a pin-up on a WWII jet, and is covered in pot leaf stickers. But when they visited Tegridy Farms for sleepovers as kids, it was something to climb on and jump off, and when they were teenagers, somewhere to get high away from Stan's insufferable dad. With Stan and Kenny huddled together in the front of the tractor, Kyle and Cartman climb into the attached trailer, and it shakes as they both seat themselves inside.

"Dude, tell your dad he's outdone himself this time." Kyle hears Kenny say, before he takes another hit. "Bravo," he adds, wheezier.

"Okay, I'll make sure to tell him that, Kenny."

Kyle laughs at Stan's sarcasm, kind of wishing he was sat with them. It's easier than trying to talk to Cartman after all this time, but he's going to try.

"So what's your exhibition?"

"Huh?"

Kyle kicks himself, fists clenching. He's worried that he hasn't phrased the question properly because he knows nothing about photography.

"Like, what's it about?"

Cartman blinks, surprised. He smiles, but then hides it behind his hand. He clears his throat, and Kyle has to purse his lips to hide his own delight at Cartman's attempts to suppress his enthusiasm.

"Um, well, it's about nightlife, and I guess my contribution is mainly about the drag scene in LA. I'm really into it-"

"Yeah, _Bad Irene_." Kyle teases. "I can't believe you modelled your drag queen persona on - no, wait, I can totally believe it."

Cartman laughs.

"People love her! I didn't realise you spent so much time on my Instagram..." he smirks.

Kyle shifts a little. It's so hard not to go on the defensive right now.

"I don't spend so much time on _your_ Instagram, I just happen to see you a lot because you post every day."

This is true. Kyle doesn't stalk Cartman's Instagram, but he is intrigued by his posts. He's an amazing photographer, and Kyle is always mesmerised by how good Cartman looks in drag, all big blond hair and dramatic make-up. Kyle is glad that his aforementioned ability to perform isn't going to waste, and he's often considered arranging something with Stan and Kenny to surprise him at one of his shows. He would love to see Cartman in his element.

"Anyway, so many of my friends are queens too, and the subject had to be based on something that was personal and represented identity, and I guess that's much of a symbol of my identity as anything."

"That's..." Kyle sighs, gearing up for what he's about to say. He smiles at Cartman, unabashed. "You know, I don't think I ever told you how proud I am of you, Cartman. At the time when you came out, I didn't necessarily agree with how you did it... but who gives a shit what I think, right? It wasn't about me. It still took a lot of guts."

Cartman is taken aback, and Kyle is worried he's said something inappropriate. He nods, as if turning over Kyle's words in his mind before smiling to himself.

"Thank you for your approval, Kyle. I've been waiting with bated breath."

Kyle laughs, glad they've returned to sarcastic remarks. It feels more them.

"You're welcome, I guess."

"But seriously, it can be scary, so..." Cartman nods to himself some more, before shooting a shy smile at Kyle. "I'm glad you're out now too."

Kyle's heart clenches at the words. Cartman was his only ally for years after all, so to hear him say that he's happy for him, for them to finally be able to talk about their sexuality openly without any denial, or coded remarks makes Kyle feel freer than ditching prom, than leaving South Park for good. He doesn't know what to say, so he chooses to pick up on technicalities.

"I wasn't going to stay in the closet forever."

"It was starting to look that way."

They're interrupted by Kenny's hand appearing through the open hatch, offering them a joint.

"Guys?"

It's then they realise Cartman's hand has been on top of Kyle's the whole time. Cartman lifts his hand and takes the joint from Kenny before Kyle can say anything. Kyle chooses not to probe further, just watches Cartman smoke and honestly, becomes quite mesmerised by the sight of Cartman staring out over the fields, by the smell, and how his skin seems to tingle from where Cartman's warm palm was resting. Kyle doesn't hide his stare when Cartman finally looks back at him, just plucks the joint from his fingers and places his free hand on top of Cartman's. He tries to be cool, but can feel Cartman's eyes on him, and his delighted, knowing smile.

"So what are you doing these days?"

"I work for a software developer, but a couple of my college friends have asked me to get on board with their start-ups."

"Are you considering any of them?"

"You know, I'm still kinda burned from the whole _Washington Redskins_ fiasco."

"Hey, that fell apart due to a publicity error not because the business model wasn't fucking sweet."

Kyle sighs.

"It _was_ fucking sweet."

"You had the bro down once, you can have it again."

Kyle smiles, nodding at the joint in his hand and thinking about how making enough money that he can afford to just hang out with his friends all day sounds like a worthwhile venture.

"That actually sounds extremely appealing right now..." he takes another hit, coughing a little. "Stan, this really is killer," he says, reaching backwards through the hatch so Stan can take the joint from him.

Cartman snorts, body thrumming with giggles.

"I love how you talk when you're stoned."

He gives Kyle's hand a soft squeeze. It prompts Kyle to look at him, and to melt at his small, fond grin.

"Ha, yeah!" Kenny laughs, taking some of the affection out of the moment. _''Killer, dude!_ '" he says like he's trying to be Bill and Ted, or Garth from _Wayne's World_. "You can take the guy to Stanford, but you can't stop him from talking like a middle-aged ex-skater."

"What's wrong with 'killer?'" Stan asks, even Kyle laughs as the butt of the joke.

"Stan, you're a middle-aged ex-skater waiting to happen," Cartman replies.

Kyle laughs even harder, looking out over the rolling cannabis fields, and pink sky, and thinking there is nowhere else he would rather be. _Faith_ is playing in the barn, hanging in the air with the weed stench; his friends are around him, and he's casually holding hands with the guy he's had a crush on for years. The contentment envelopes him, swallowing up any doubt or dread he felt about coming home.

* * *

Somehow, Kyle has found himself at the end of the night. They abandoned the tractor when it got too cold, and headed back into the barn. Kenny was the first to splinter off, leaving on the shuttle with a girl Kyle assumes is a friend of Shelley's, and then Stan went back into the house as the party started to thin out. Kyle didn't mind, he's content to hang out with Cartman and is not ready to leave Tegridy Farms where everything seems fun, and carefree, and as it should be. They're sat at the table they've occupied all night, with only a handful of guests surrounding them. Even Jimbo and Ned have left, and Randy is stood in front of the DJ booth, swaying back and forth to Towelie's set list. The songs have grown more melancholic as the evening progresses, and Kyle groans at the song that fills the barn.

_"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide."_

"Fuck, another Elton John song?"

Cartman frowns.

"You say that as if there's such a thing as too much Elton John."

"You do realise that they've only been playing songs by LGBT artists all night, don't you?"

"Of course I've realised that, Kyle, we're here in celebration of the Pride Special after all-"

"No, Jimbo and Ned's tenth wedding anniversary," Kyle corrects with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.

"Yeah, that too," Cartman replies, finishing his drink.

Kyle chuckles, smiling to the lyrics of the song despite his growing impatience with Elton John. He looks at the empty dancefloor, the beckoning, twirling disco lights and back at Cartman, who seems just as mellow, just as contented. Kyle didn't ever think they'd enjoy each other's company again, and he wants to revel in it a little, soak it all in. He rubs his arm, nerves welling up inside him.

"You know, I uh, think I want that dance now..."

Cartman looks at him, lips parting wordlessly for a second.

"Really?"

Kyle nods, emboldened. He gets to his feet, and waits for Cartman to follow. He does, and they make their way to the dancefloor with ducked heads to hide their grins.

"Do you mind leading?" Kyle asks when they step onto the dancefloor. Looking around, two other couples have joined them and are slow dancing. Both couples seem pretty intoxicated, but still, Kyle doesn't want to look like an idiot.

Cartman grins, shaking his head. Kyle smiles, and wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his thighs.

"So what do we, uh..."

"Here..." Cartman murmurs, fitting his hands at Kyle's waist and pulling him forward. One arm wraps around his waist, and his other hand finds Kyle's. They thread their fingers together, tight and secure, and it makes Kyle feel at ease, like he was in the tractor.

They start to sway, until they're gradually pressed flush together, cheek to cheek.

"I'm really glad you're here..." Cartman whispers, and it sends a shiver down Kyle's spine and the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

He closes his eyes and nods.

"Me too," his voice is thick and he sighs. "I'm sorry for leaving that night."

Cartman tenses up. Kyle can sense it immediately. His body stiffens and his shoulders draw ever so slightly up.

"Kyle-"

"No, I wanna say it, okay?" Kyle says, pulling back to look in Cartman's eyes. He looks wounded. "It was dumb, and it made it so we had to leave things on a really sour note-"

"Well, what note did you think we'd end on?" Cartman chuckles.

Kyle doesn't have an answer, at least one that isn't silly, or delusional. But his face must say it all. Cartman sighs, and his fingers fidget in Kyle's grip. Clearly, he doesn't like to think about what note they could have possibly ended on, what could have happened if he had thought twice about his confession, if Kyle hadn't left, because that note rings with regret.

"Oh..." he whispers, face grave. Kyle can see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I guess I should apologise for what I said too, then." He looks at Kyle and tries to smile. " _That_ was dumb."

Kyle shrugs. It startled him, and unnerved him, and angered him at the time, but he has a different perspective on it now. He smiles.

"Well, it's not the worst thing in the world, for someone to tell you they love you," he says with a thin chuckle.

"I said I _thought_ I loved you."

Kyle rolls his eyes, and looks to the ceiling.

"God damn it, Cartman..." he mutters.

"I just wanted to clear that up for the record."

"Do you..." Kyle purses his lips, and thinks about the question he's about to ask. "Did you love me though?"

Cartman frowns, looks at his feet. He's out of ways to make light of it all.

"Does it matter? I..." he looks up, and Kyle is frozen by that now familiar Cartman stare. The stare that's distant, preoccupied, yet unflinchingly focused. Kyle has been the subject of that stare so many times, yet can never predict what follows it. "All I know is I've never felt this way about anyone else." He squeezes Kyle's hand tighter and never takes his eyes off him. "You asked me why this keeps happening, why we're drawn to each other and I think it's because I can't imagine being with anyone else. I can't. I try to think of my life without you in it, and it's impossible. No matter how far into the future I look you're there, and... these past few years have been no different. In my mind you're always there, somewhere, and it's like-"

"We're waiting for each other," Kyle whispers. He has to cut in, because it's what he's known all along.

Cartman's shoulders fall, and a smile flickers on his face. He nods.

Kyle can't take it anymore, he can't wait any longer. He tilts his head, and presses his lips to Cartman's. Just like their first kiss, Cartman doesn't react for a while, just lets Kyle kiss him like he has to process that this is really happening. But then he lets go of Kyle's hand, and instead reaches around the back of his head, gripping his hair and kissing him hard.

"I missed you so much..." he murmurs in the space between their lips.

Kyle nods, hand resting on Cartman's neck and cradling his jaw.

"I think about you too," he replies, in between kisses. "Cartman, I think about you all the time..."

Cartman moans in agreement, in delight, and Kyle doesn't care that they're making out in the middle of the dancefloor. He doesn't care where this will lead, or if it's right or wrong. He may be doing this because he's drunk, or caught up in the party spirit, or the happiness he's felt all evening, but so what if he is? It occurs to him that Cartman was conceived at an event like this, he was a product of decisions led by chemistry, and desire, and lack of inhibition and Kyle is willing to follow all of those things if it means he can go home with the guy he's wanted for years.

Now that they've started kissing, it's hard to stop. They make out waiting for the last shuttle back into town, cuddled together to brace each other from the cold, and then they make out at the back of the bus for the entire journey into town. Their kisses are wide-mouthed, tongue-heavy, eager, and giggly, as if trying to make up for all the enthusiastic, teenage kissing they could have done during their last summer in South Park.

They walk hand-in-hand to Cartman's, and resume kissing at his house. It takes them a while to stumble upstairs to his bedroom, because they keep pressing each other up against the walls and the banister. When they finally make it to Cartman's bedroom, Kyle feels like he's stumbled into a memory he's relived over and over. But the memory is deserted now, because those two boys don't exist anymore. He pushes Cartman up against the wall again, hands reaching between their bodies to grope at each other through their pants. They're hard already, and Cartman tugs at Kyle's hair to pull him in for more kisses, although all they can manage is swift, hard pecks that are overwhelmed by their gasps and moans.

Kyle soon drops to his knees, unable to stop thinking about something he has imagined doing for years. Cartman stares down at him as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly with shaking hands. Kyle blinks, light-headed when he pulls Cartman's cock from his pants, he never thought he would get to do this. He presses his tongue to the head, before closing his mouth around it.

" _Unnh, Kyle..."_ Cartman moans above him, fingers weaving through his curls and gripping them as tight as ever. He sighs, strained, his head falls back against the wall with a thud. _"Kyle, yes that feels so good..."_

Kyle moans around Cartman's cock and sucks harder, wanting more breathless babbling, pleased whines, and moans. He thrusts shallowly into his mouth, and Kyle unbuckles his own belt one-handed, shoving his hand into his pants to touch himself to the same eager rhythm as he's sucking Cartman off.

He cums pretty much when Cartman does. His anguished shout tips Kyle over the edge, and he moans and cums into his hand, fucking it forlornly, swallowing the cum in his mouth with breathless gulps. Cartman's grip on his hair softens and he pulls back, the both of them trying to catch their breath. When Kyle looks up at Cartman, his smile is wide and elastic, eyes closed.

"That was..." he opens his eyes, and blinks in astonishment at Kyle. "Fuck, did you-"

Clearly, he was too far gone to notice what Kyle was doing to himself the whole time, but has noticed Kyle's hand still in his pants. Kyle flushes with a wicked grin, nodding and poking his tongue out teasingly to clean Cartman's cock. Cartman makes a small, delighted, _'hmph'_ sound, and falls back against the wall again.

"You're so fucking hot..." he marvels, stroking Kyle's hair.

"I've been wanting to do that to you since prom night," Kyle reveals, still smiling. His cheeks are starting to hurt. He licks his own cum off his fingers, eyes on Cartman the entire time.

"Kyle, seriously, you're gonna make me beg."

Kyle blinks, intrigued, wanting to hear that more than anything. He grins, pulling Cartman's pants and underwear down to his ankles.

"Beg me for what?" he asks, biting his lip.

Cartman rolls his eyes, looking down at Kyle with a knowing fondness and petting his hair absent-mindedly again.

"You know what..."

Kyle shakes his head, feigning innocence and unbuttoning his shirt.

Cartman sighs, exasperated.

"I'm not gonna say it..."

Kyle arches a challenging eyebrow at him and gets to his feet. Cartman's gaze runs over him, calculating and curious to see what Kyle will do next, daring him to make his next move. He grabs Cartman's collar and forces him to his lips. They kiss roughly, and Kyle's hands move from Cartman's collar to his buttons, wasting no time popping each one open.

Their mouths separate, but Cartman still keeps his face pressed to Kyle, watching him with dark, lidded eyes.

"Fuck..."

"Come on," Kyle teases. "It's on the tip of your tongue."

Cartman growls, shoving his hand into Kyle's pants and grabbing his dick. He squeezes tightly, before stroking his cock in a way that makes Kyle's eyes roll back.

" _Cartman..._ " Kyle gasps, gripping his open shirt and keening helplessly to his hand.

"Fuck me..." Cartman commands, and Kyle can't even be mad that it was supposed to be a plea.

He nods, pulling both their shirts from their shoulders and shoving him onto the bed.

* * *

Kyle wakes up to a familiar feeling: Cartman's arm draped over his waist, and his breath against his neck. Except this time, it feels very much on purpose that this has happened. Kyle shouldn't be surprised since after they hooked up, he was too beat and boneless to move, and Cartman - who looked the drunkest he had looked all night - had smiled and pulled him into his embrace. Kyle couldn't move after that, even if he wanted to. At the time, he really didn't want to. Honestly, he doesn't know what he wants now. Cartman inadvertently spooning him all those years ago ignited a craving for being held while sleeping, and Kyle thinks he may be the only light sleeper who actually sleeps better in someone else's arms. He could do a lot worse than waking up in the arms of somebody he hasn't stopped thinking about for six years. The novelty is wearing off though, and an anxiety Kyle has warred with for years is commencing another battle.

Giving in to Cartman doesn't come naturally to Kyle, and does not include moments of impulse or pity, but fully, wholeheartedly giving in to him. He always has to fight a little, because history has taught Kyle that letting his guard down around Cartman leads to him getting hurt. Kyle always has to be sceptical and wary about glimmers of promise, no matter how exhilarating, for the sake of self-preservation. But lying in Cartman's arms, Kyle can't help but wonder if it's not just himself he wants to protect. The last time they were in a similar situation they didn't speak for six years. Kyle doesn't know if he can handle another six. His spiralling thoughts steal his breath, and Cartman's arm around him starts to feel like a boa constrictor wrapping around his abdomen and crushing him.

Heart pounding and skin prickling with sweat, he lifts Cartman's arm, extracting himself from his embrace. He carefully slides out of the sheets, keeping a wary, guilty eye on Cartman the entire time. On his feet, he feels a bit woozy and groggy. Panting and chuckling with Cartman post-sex, a hangover the next morning seemed so far away. He watches Cartman as he gets dressed into his creased clothes, promising to himself he won't make the same mistake as last time. He'll definitely call him later. He wants things to be cool. He freezes when Cartman stirs, a sleepy groan rumbling in his throat. He doesn't open his eyes, just clutches the pillow Kyle was sleeping on and pulls it closer. Kyle figures he must just be a natural cuddler (sleeping with a stuffed animal for years will do that to you). He swears he can see Cartman burying a smile into the pillow, but discards that thought immediately.

It feels like there's a heavy ball sitting in his chest as he slips out of Cartman's room, and clicks the door shut behind him. Even though he cringes at the term, he's done a couple walks of shame and even though this will probably be the shortest walk he's ever done, it feels the most literal. The further he is from Cartman, the harder it is to convince himself that this is the right thing.

He's almost out the front door when a voice stops him in his tracks.

"Good morning, poopsikins!"

Kyle's hand that was reaching for the doorknob withers at the sound of Miss Cartman's voice.

"I've made waffles! And the bacon is almost - oh." Kyle has his back to her, but he winces with second-hand embarrassment. "Hello, Kyle!"

Miss Cartman is clearly not as easily embarrassed or mortified as he is. Kyle turns around, shoulders still stiff and hunched.

"Hi, Miss Cartman." He keeps glancing at the door, his escape. "I was just, um..."

Miss Cartman frowns, and quickly tries to hide it.

"Oh, aren't you going to stay for some breakfast?" she asks, in a persuasive tone that Kyle finds difficult to reject. "You must be hungry."

Kyle flushes a little, detecting the slightest hint of insinuation and letting it embarrass him completely. He tries to recall how loud he and Cartman were last night. He glances between Miss Cartman and the stairs, and doubts if he's ready to leave it all yet.

He nods slowly.

"Okay, sure." He smoothes down his shirt and smiles. "Thank you."

He follows Miss Cartman into the kitchen, pulling up a chair like he's still testing the waters of whether or not he's welcome. Miss Cartman has returned to the breakfast she's making.

"What would you like, Kyle?"

"Some waffles would be great, thanks. And some coffee."

Miss Cartman smiles at him over her shoulder, and it's easy for Kyle to smile back.

"So did you have a nice time at the party?"

Kyle flushes again, both feeling uncomfortable because she wasn't invited and because, evidently he did have a nice time if he hooked up, and with her son.

"Yeah, it was great. It was nice to see everyone again."

"Yes, Eric was so looking forward to it. "

Kyle blinks, shifting forward in his seat

"Really? He told you that?"

"Well... not really." She sighs, dishing up Kyle's waffles. "Eric doesn't tell me much of anything, but when he's excited or happy, he gives himself away."

"So what was he looking forward to?"

Miss Cartman turns around and smiles at him knowingly. Kyle has to try really hard to play dumb. He thinks he probably ends up staring at her like a weirdo.

"The same thing as you, I suppose," she says with another sigh, placing Kyle's breakfast in front of him. "Seeing everyone... " she takes a seat across from him. "You know, the summer of his senior year he couldn't wait to leave, and then he got invited to this party and he was dying to come back."

"I can't say I blame him," Kyle replies, drizzling some maple syrup over his waffles. "I was more than ready to leave by the time college rolled around."

"Don't tell him I told you this, Kyle, but... I could tell you were the person he most wanted to see."

Kyle balks at her with a mouthful of waffles. His throat has seemed to shrink, and he swallows his food with a hard gulp.

"Really?"

She nods, with a tight smile and sparkling eyes like she's delighted with the secret she let slip.

"I'll never forget how he looked the night you two came here from prom. He looked so happy and carefree, the way I had always wanted him to look. Before he headed out last night, he had that look on his face again." She rests her chin in her hand and beams at Kyle. "I can tell he really missed you."

"I missed him too," Kyle whispers, and even softly it feels freeing to say it out loud. Just like ditching prom, just like being at Tegridy Farms, just like deciding to come home with Cartman. Giving in to him may not come naturally, but this doesn't feel like giving in. It feels like falling.

"Are you still living in California?" Miss Cartman asks, taking a sip of her tea.

Kyle nods, smiling.

"Yes I am."

"Then perhaps you two should meet up sometime? Sorry, I shouldn't meddle." She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, waving off the suggestion. "Eric would hate it if he knew I was meddling-"

"No, it's okay. I, um..." Kyle shrugs, face warm. "I'd love to see him again."

She smiles, before she's distracted, someone or something catching her eye.

"Oh, there you are, poopsikins!"

Kyle's hands stiffen around his coffee mug, and his throat has shrank again.

"Hey..." Kyle hears Cartman say, sounding deflated, before he turns around. Watching Cartman's expression switch from disappointment to surprise to delight is as funny as it is heartwarming.

"You're still here." He grins.

Kyle nods, smirking.

"Yep. Just having breakfast with your mom."

"Bacon and waffles, poopsikins?"

Cartman smiles and nods, in a daze as he takes a seat next to Kyle.

"Sounds good..."

His mom gets up to make his breakfast, and alone at the table he and Kyle exchange the coyest looks they've ever given each other. Kyle's smile soon fades into a contemplative frown, wanting to touch him but not knowing what he would be comfortable with. He wants to speak but doesn't know what to say.

"How did you sleep?" he asks, placing a hand on his inner thigh.

Cartman's gaze wanders immediately to Kyle's hand and he smiles in approval.

"Great, thanks," he replies, resting his own hand on top, and squeezing.

Kyle finishes his breakfast and has another cup of coffee around the table with Cartman and his mom, before he realises the time.

"I should be going," he says, getting to his feet. "Before my mom sends out a search party."

Cartman and his mom chuckle good-naturedly, and Kyle feels embarrassed at his joke.

"It was lovely to see you again, Kyle!"

Kyle nods.

"Yeah, you too, Miss Cartman."

Cartman snickers, biting his lip and getting to his feet too.

"Come on..." he murmurs, hand on Kyle's back as he walks him to the door.

As he's leaving, Kyle is desperate to have confirmation of when they'll see each other again.

"So when is your exhibition?"

"Two weeks?"

Kyle's heart is racing, and he takes a bracing breath. It's like he's never asked anyone out before.

"I wanna come see it."

Cartman blinks, that surprised to delighted transition happens on his face. Kyle can't get enough of it.

"You do?"

Kyle smirks, brows furrowed like it's obvious and Cartman is dumb for not knowing that.

"Yeah, of course I do. Maybe I could stay for the weekend?"

Cartman grins, wicked.

"I would fucking love that, Kyle."

"So it's a date?"

Cartman's mouth scrunches up to contain his smile. His eyes are sparkling.

"Yep." He nods, like he can't quite believe it. "A date."

Kyle chuckles, a little bit in disbelief too.

"I'm looking forward to it," he says, reaching up to kiss Cartman's cheek. He murmurs, "Bye, Cartman."

Before Kyle can turn away, Cartman cups the side of his face and brings him to his lips. Kyle doesn't think before grabbing fistfuls of Cartman's t-shirt and pulling him closer, wanting Cartman to pin him up against the door.

"Bye, Kyle." He smiles, as their lips part.

Kyle feels better about leaving now he knows he'll see Cartman again, although he will probably miss him like hell in between. The thought of falling, or giving in, doesn't seem so scary anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist can be found here (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/03HbyP1ogHcTVB4pwGzDlK?si=29YSCmbFSbaYtMyo7YuaMA)


End file.
